Higher Than the Empire State Brighter Than the Sun
by Lilah.Frost
Summary: James and Kendall's infinite playlist. Or, One night in NYC, two boys meet and kinda fall in love.  Inspired by Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist. For the Palmwoods Harvestfest Ficfest at Lj.
1. Give me a second

**Higher than the Empire State, Brighter than the Sun (Carry Me Home Tonight)**

**James/Kendall, a little Camille/Carlos**

**Written for the Palmwoods Harvestfest FicFest at Lj.**

* * *

><p>It should be comforting, the familiar wooden surface of Kendall's regular table at his regular night spot. He's been where countless times before, usually with Jo, his then-but-now-ex girlfriend.<br>It's hard to say if it's her absence, or something else, that has tonight feeling just a little off.

He's here, out of the house for the first time in weeks, because he's been dragged into yet another of his friend Camille's adventures. This time it's a misguided venture into the world of teen rebellion.

Hence, Bob's Hotspot, the only bar in New York that Kendall would actually get in trouble for being in, due to some nasty business between his dad and the eponymous Bob some five-hundred years ago.

It's Kendall's favorite place in the city.

Tonight though, Kendall would rather be organizing files in his Dad's office, or playing monopoly with his little sister than here. And there is no worse monopoly opponent than Katie Knight.

The bar is beginning to fill now, a bigger crowd than what Bob's usually holds. Sneakers and boots shuffle across the untreated concrete floor, a muted march in wait of the booming drums and throbbing bass, the cacophony that is to come. The growing throng of girls in tiny shorts and guys in dark t-shirts is mumbling and tittering in a gentle hum, they too are quiet in preparation for the night ahead.

Kendall stands silently, while the loudest thing in the room, Camille, naturally, dances about to his left.

As Kendall watches the audience filter in through the familiar orange doors, he feels disconnected somehow, as though the time away from the city has left him caught behind everyone else.

Camille on the other hand is as vibrant as ever; head to toe in black, long hair teased up and out, lips stained in darkest red. It's a departure from her usual attire of floral dresses or tank tops and shorts.

"It's all a part of the experience," she'd told him when he picked her up.  
>He thinks he should probably be used to the costumes by now; it was way back in fourth grade when Camille told him of her dream to be an actress. It's been like this ever since, but Kendall still thinks she looks ridiculous at times, like a little girl playing dress-ups in her mother's business clothes.<br>He loves her though, and telling Camille to tone it down is never an effective use of one's time anyway, so he opts for gentle mockery instead.

"You look like a vampire groupie." Says Kendall, resting his elbow on the rickety old wooden table.  
>Camille looks thoughtfully up at him,<br>"Like a groupie for a band of musical vampires? Or a groupie who's been turned into a vampire?"  
>"Is there a difference?" He asks, for some reason,<br>"Of course there is!"

_Of course there is._

Before Camille can launch into the hypothetical history of vampire musicians and their respective fan-bases, Kendall grabs her elbow and heads towards the bar, specifically towards the new bartender with the dreadlocks, the one he's never met before.  
>Kendall brought Camille here after all, and a good hostchauffeur does not let their guest go thirsty.

"Come on; let's get you a drink before the band starts." He says, shifting his arm up and draping it around Camille's shoulders,  
>"Hey" She says, and, still smiling wildly, grabs Kendall's arm and moves it away. "Platonic, remember? I want everyone here to know I'm available, and ready to get wild!"<br>The last word is delivered with the most un-rebellious squeal Kendall has ever heard and paired with a broad grin, and does nothing to assuage his fear that Camille's big plan is going to bomb.  
>"But you're right, we need to be quick," Camille smiles, "After all we have the best seats in the house!"<br>Kendall smiles weakly, regretting his decision to drive and not drink more and more with every passing minute.

"Right." 

* * *

><p>The moments before a show are nerve-wracking, as James Diamond is painfully aware.<p>

As he watches Shaun and Eric put the finishing touches to their gear, James' stomach dips and swirls, and the walk out onto the stage is, as always, a dizzying blur of flashing lights and the overwhelming sounds of an excited crowd. He's getting used to it, having been playing actual for-real gigs for a few months now, but the lead-up is always a killer.

It's only the moment his hand connects with the microphone that he can breathe properly once more. Where he remembers just how long he's been waiting for this.  
>In those first few seconds, time slows down and everything becomes still. You wouldn't know it, given his on (and off) stage persona, but this moment of peace is James' favorite part of playing live.<p>

He likes to glance out at the milling crowd before they're all positioned and ready to rock out, loves the moments the lights go down, erasing the faces of everyone but a few lucky people near the front.  
>Tonight there are a couple of eager folks right at his feet, undoubtedly fans of The Regiment, the big name group that James' band The Next Big Thing are supporting tonight, but regardless they stare at him in awe, glitter across their eyes, desire etched on their faces.<p>

The fans come down now, more than he's seen before, and they stare hungrily as James takes pause. They don't know him, or this band, The Next Big Thing is just the appetizer, all they want from him is a low-level of suck. _Don't ruin our buzz_ their faces say, dead serious. Satisfaction, that's all he can give them, a pulsing beat and lyrics that hit them where it hurts. Easy. They've done it a thousand times before, both in Carlos' garage and on stage.

James has a routine. Let the stage lights come up, feel the crowd's focus draw to him in all his leather and glory, bathe in their building excitement and racing pulses.

And wait.

Wait until Carlos begins to brush his kit impatiently, until Eric and Shaun are well and truly ready to go, and everyone is waiting on him. He makes them wait, standing like stone until the crowd begins to think they'll never actually start and then, when the time comes, and James decides enough is enough, he nods to Shaun and the frenzy begins.

Tonight though, is different.

Tonight he waits for something more, for the greedy eyes of the front row to grow cold, anxious. He doesn't want them confused tonight, he wants them angry, to have them feel the way he feels.

So he waits.

Shaun coughs convincingly behind James' shoulder, but James is busy giving his most dazzling smile (it's a good one) to a pretty little thing by his feet, with tousled hair and a butterfly by her collarbone.

It's when Shaun coughs again that James looks up into the wings and sees him.

Logan is side-stage, for some reason, and laughing, in clothes much more stylish than his regular standard, his hand on the arm of some perfectly-tanned ox in a silver tuxedo jacket. James watches them for a moment, thinking about Logan's hands on his own body, just a few short weeks before.

James feels more nauseous than he ever has in his life.

He nods to Shaun and looks out at the waiting public, who pretty much hate him by now, as the opening chords to _Light Fires and Dance On_come in behind him. James draws the microphone to his lips, and stares into the burning lights,

"I fucking told you not to come." 

* * *

><p>Kendall doesn't start to relax until the music starts, even then it takes a few songs to begin to feel even somewhat comfortable, to feel the tension slide a way just a little amidst the sound. The first band, The Next Big Thing, is new to Bob's, and while the oh-so-now trend of Glam-Rock isn't really Kendall's thing, they're not so bad.<p>

Though their name is terrible.

He's more of an Indie-rock guy, and that's usually more Bob's speed too, which means Bob owed somebody a favor. Kendall's' willing to bet it wasn't the lead singer, who's stomping and pouting about like a prized tool, anger seething from his every hip-swing and glide.

His voice is another matter.

Beneath this guys over-produced _I'm a Rock Star_ get-up (_leather jacket, distressed jeans and, of all things, a bandanna? Come on, guy)_ and the ridiculously _pretty _hair, the boy's voice is warm and familiar, comforting almost.

Sure, he slips into this manufactured Ken-Doll style every now and then, but for the most part every lyric is delivered in a voice so raw, Kendall can't help but wonder what the hell has happened to this kid to get him so damn angry.  
>It's not just Kendall either, around him guys and girls alike are starry-eyed and swaying.<br>Even Camille, who is pretty much immune to assholes.

As the set ends, it takes a moment for Kendall to shake himself out of the reverie he's found himself in, to remember where he is and what he's doing, and to recognize Camille's excited grin and firm hand on his elbow,  
>"I'm thinking Tequila!" she shouts over the loud and cheerful post-set buzz,<br>"Sounds great!" Kendall replies with a smile, wondering if he can compare prices on car-seat cleaning with his iPhone.

"Are you having fun yet?" asks Camille once they reach the jostling line.  
>"Totally," Kendall tries to smile convincingly, but Camille shakes her head and before he knows it, Kendall's being dragged into the ladies room.<p>

He'd be more surprised if this were the first time such a thing had happened.

The crowd of girls by the mirror however, is very surprised to see a lanky blond boy appearing in their bathroom, and glare daggers at the intruder.

"It's ok," Camille assures them, "He's super gay."

With a quick kick at Kendall's ankle before he can protest, (he's told her about his aversion to labeling his girl/guy/whatever-thing a hundred times before) they watch as the crowd of ladies evacuate the bathroom as swiftly as humanly possible. Kendall reaches down to rub his ankle, but Camille pushes him up against the sink.

"We need a game plan." She says, eyes glittering mischievously, shining even in the crappy orange light of the bathroom. Kendall shakes his head,  
>"What exactly are we doing again?" Camille rolls her eyes, certain that he never actually listens when she talks,<br>"I need to experience a night of teen rebellion. Parties, clubs, drinking, making out with hot strangers and giving them fake numbers, tattoos, motorcycles, the whole bit."  
>"I don't really think you need a tattoo Camille,"<br>"It has to be authentic, Kendall Knight, if it's not I run the risk of going to a hypothetical future audition unprepared, and that is just not an option! And I need your help; usually I would call upon Jo for this stuff but…" Kendall brings his fingers to his forehead and closes his eyes,  
>"Of course. Jo. Right, because rebellion was right up Taylor's alley."<br>"Kendall," starts Camille,  
>"No, just, forget it. Let's go and get you some random guy action."<p>

He moves to stand up, but Camille's hand is firm on his elbow, "Kendall, you need to let go," she says sternly, "It's time."  
>"I'm not doing this," says Kendall, pushing himself off the sink and running his hands through his hair, as Camille leans back against the sink and looks at him a little sadly.<p>

"Kendall, it's been 6 months since you and Jo broke up-"  
>"Since she dumped me…"<br>"Fine, 6 months since she dumped you-"  
>"And then came back! With a handsome guy attached to her face!"<br>"I know." Says Camille, fidgeting with the bottom of her shirt.  
>"But that was a month ago, Kendall, she's moved on. And I've been nice, Kendall, for the past month I've stood by and been a damn good friend while you turned into a zombie-boy who did nothing but lie on his couch eating Cool Ranch Doritos and watching Katherine Heigl movies. But I can't do that anymore, you can't do that anymore. It's done, and you need to move on."<p>

He stares at her, one eyebrow raised,

"This is your plan to get me over losing the love of my life? You're just going to yell at me now? That's a terrible plan!"

"I'm not yelling. I'm just being honest!"  
>"What do you want me to do, Camille? Go out there and hook up with a bunch of random strangers to prove how over her I am?"<br>"No, I just-  
>"What? What do you want?"<br>"I want my best friend back. My fun, spontaneous, never-backs-down from a challenge best friend."

Kendall frowns and leans back against the sink beside her once more,  
>"I just don't feel like being him right now."<br>"Then you're letting her win."

She says it defiantly, as a challenge.

And Kendall, for all that he is aware of exactly what she's doing, how he knows that Camille knows exactly what buttons to push and when, can't help but feel the little flare of anger that is rising in his chest.  
>He hates to lose, that's not a secret. It's one thing for Jo to break his heart and then rub her ability to move on back in his face, but if that were to mean she's beating him in some sick game? That's not something Kendall can just let go of.<p>

"I'm sorry," says Camille, resting her hand on his, "That wasn't fair. Do you just want to go home?"

He does, very much, but Camille is right, she has been nothing short of amazing for the past few months, and he owes her for that. Plus she's never been a big drinker or anything even close to a rebel, and watching her attempt to be a wild-child has the potential to be the funniest thing he's ever seen.  
>"Come on," Kendall says, taking her hand in his as Ernie, Bob's head of security sticks his head in the door of the bathroom and beckons them with one freckly finger.<br>"Let's get you some accurate representation of teen rebellion or whatever."

After a brief warning and some threatening-but-not-all-that-scary glances from Bob himself (it's difficult to be scared of a man with a ridiculous beard and a powder-blue tux), Kendall and Camille head back to the bar, Camille's words still running through Kendall's mind like an endless taunt.

He's thinking about his couch, and Jo, and the stupid car-keys digging into his hip, and how good some Doritos would go right now, when a guy comes pushing through the crowd and wipes out Camille.

"What the hell dude!" shouts Kendall, fingers clenching the collar of the guys jacket in seconds.

_What anger management issues?_

"I-what? I'm sorry" says the douchey lead singer from The Next Big Thing, eyes darting around nervously as several bystanders help Camille to her feet. Kendall, still holding the assailant, observes him for the first time, and suddenly it's not just his voice that has Kendall's attention. The guy is, well, pretty.

Like, really pretty.

"It's ok," says Camille with a smile, brushing herself off.

"It's not, I'm sorry; I'm not usually that clumsy. More charming and in control of my limbs, I promise. Can I get you guys some drinks? As an apology?" the guy's smiling now, but it's strained, and his eyes are fixed somewhere over Kendall's shoulder as he speaks without pausing for breath.

"Could you do me one quick favor though?" he continues, locking eyes with Kendall, 

"Could you pretend to be my boyfriend for the next, like, five minutes?"


	2. I need to get my story straight

James gets off the stage and locks his eyes on the bar.

His heart is racing, the adrenaline of performing surging through him as it always does, but coupled with riotous anger.  
>Hot like fire, it twists and turns through his veins, sparking and burning as it goes.<p>

He needs a drink. Or to murder Logan. But the drink is probably the safer option right now.

The crowd is on a different kind of high, they bounce and laugh as the lights come up just a little, and while most of the glittering groupies ignore him in wait of the next band to come, a few grab at his clothes, try to catch his attention as he cuts a swift path through the mass of people.

He ignores them all, as he never has before, desperate for a drink to quench the fire-hot rage that pulses beneath his skin, worried that if he stops, he could burn this place to the ground.

He pauses only when he notices a girl fall in his wake. Over her shoulder he spies a flicker of silver and a familiar torso, but two hands have him by the jacket and then the throat before he can even consider reacting to that.

The guy is cute.

Not even the fire in James' throat or the guy's strong hands around it can let him ignore that. That being said, his outfit, flannel and a pair of Kmart jeans, is awful.

He looks like a farmhand.

James supposes there's at least some potential there, mostly to do with his eyes, which despite their anger, are the brightest green James has ever seen.

He draws his gaze away for a second to view his impending doom. There are people watching now, a circle of eagle-eyed onlookers and Farmboy's yelling in James' face as some random people help his friend to her feet, and all James can do is watch Logan and his new piece of ass approach them, helplessly.

It's a snap decision really, impulsive, like James' decisions often are. He figures he has a few options; run away like Carlos in the face of anything mouse-related, stand here and wait for Logan to come and rub his new toy in James' face, or make Logan see that James can move on too.  
>And sure, James would never date anyone dressed as poorly as this, but the other options? They suck.<br>He quickly apologizes to Farmboy's pretty friend, and then, with hands still wringing his neck, he bites the bullet.  
>"Could you pretend to be my boyfriend for the next, like, five minutes?"<p>

The guy is staring at him as though he has said something completely ridiculous, which is silly really, because what guy wouldn't want to date James, even for five minutes?  
>And as much as James would like to give the poor guy enough time to come to his senses, Logan is getting closer and closer by the second.<p>

So he grabs Farmboy and kisses him.

It's a good kiss too, equal parts anger, desperation and surprise. Plus James' usual helping of awesome.  
>At first the guy resists a little, probably having never been kissed by someone as talented as James Diamond, but soon he's kissing back, and bringing his hand up and into James' hair.<p>

At the sound of a familiar cough, James pulls back just a little, whispers his name into his new friends lips. The response is such that he can barely hear it over the chattering crowd,  
>"Kendall. Hi." Says Farmboy, shaking his head a little as they pull apart and James turns to face Logan, whose eyebrows are just about threatening to migrate and join the rest of his hair up top.<p>

"James? Kendall?" he stammers, "You guys know each other?"

_Oh_, thinks James. _Well, shit_.

* * *

><p>Kendall's not usually one to be lost for words, but there's something about getting your face kissed off that impedes one's ability to talk.<br>He could probably write a paper on it; the tingling sensation on his lips, the warm buzz in his stomach, the presumably dopey look on his face as Logan stands before them, waiting for an answer.

He's known Logan since preschool, back when he was Hortense and had considerably less swagger. They went through school together with Camille and Jo, and they were super close, right up until the point where Logan started hanging out with a different crowd, changed his name and started relationships with various questionable individuals. Relationships that began and ended so quickly it made Kendall's head spin.

Plus he made Camille cry, so there's that.

Kendall tries to fight through the sludge that is currently clouding his brain, but eventually the silence drags on for so long that Logan just rolls his eyes and storms off. It's probably for the best.

He's not sure why he kissed back. Possibly the lack of any action for the past few months, possibly the fact that James is a _really_good kisser, maybe even the little niggling thought in the back of his mind that if Jo could see him moving on too she might get jealous.

_James.  
><em>

Kendall looks at James now, pretty James, frozen and staring in shock at Logan's retreating back, and it all comes rushing back. And Kendall knows exactly who James is.

Amongst the greasy guys with slicked back hair and the scary girls with bad dye-jobs that Logan paraded through their school friend's parties, there was James.  
>Logan's invisible boyfriend, who made kickass mix-tapes and was super hot and was, by word of Logan's mouth, pretty much the sweetest and best boyfriend in the world.<br>Why Logan would continue to get with circus-freaks while this guy waited in the wings, loyal and oblivious, no-one could figure out.

It made Kendall's blood boil.

They'd never seen the guy, Logan having kept him all to himself, a secret love, hidden away from his friends.

It explained why James' voice was so familiar at least. Kendall stole a lot of CDs from Logan's car. Including a mix CD he may or not have taken on purpose. Amidst the upbeat dance tracks and hip hop love stories that fit Logan's new personality to a tee, there were sweet indie ballads and songs from unsigned bands Kendall thought he alone knew about.

On the b-side were a few original tracks, mostly overdone rock stuff, expect for the last track, a stripped back ballad that gave Kendall chills. He kept it in his car, and listened to it before bed.

Listened to _James_.

"You know Logan?" James asks from beside Kendall, his face suddenly older, sadder.  
>"Um. Yeah." Kendall replies, shoving his hands in his pockets.<br>"Sorry." Says James, without meeting Kendall's gaze. He turns and disappears into the crowd abruptly.  
>"That was weird." Assesses Camille, Queen of the Understatement.<br>Kendall can only nod in return.

* * *

><p>By the time he's back by Carlos' side, James has stolen three drinks and been handed five phone numbers, which have been stuffed in his back pocket and far out of his mind. His mind which is currently a swirling mess of Logan's aftershave and obnoxious red flannel.<p>

"Where have you been?" Carlos' inquisitive smile is a sharp contrast to the looks James is receiving from Eric and Shaun; undoubtedly pissed that James took off without helping pack up.

"Dude I called you like three times, the guys want to head home but I was thinking maybe we could stick around and watch The Regiment for a bit, you know, see the pros in action. Plus, there are some really hot girls here tonight, and I could really use a wingman."

Carlos does not, in fact, require a wingman; his drumsticks are usually more than enough to sway a lady. Which means he has a plan. And Carlo's plans are usually terrible and involve James digging him out of dangerous/embarrassing situations.  
>He's usually quite fine with this, but, "I'm sorry Bro; I don't think I'm up for it tonight."<p>

He pulls out his phone as Carlos begins to list the reasons James needs to help him in his latest endeavor, and the slips of paper carrying phone numbers drift out onto the floor.

"Just forget about them dude!" Calls James to Carlos, who is already on the floor and scooping up the torn napkins. He bounces back up a moment later, eyes wide with shock.  
>"Where did you get this?" James rolls his eyes and returns to his phone, deleting an unread message from one Logan Mitchell.<p>

"I dunno, the bar I guess? Let's just go home, man."  
>"Wake up New York, tonight at Madrigals…Holy shit."<br>James's gaze snaps back to Carlos,  
>"What? Give me that!"<br>The piece of paper is pink, and printed in neat handwriting is the name of the hottest band in New York. The hottest band in New York who happen to only play in secret undisclosed locations throughout the city, dropping clues sporadically so as to ensure an intimate, exclusive feel to their gigs.

The hottest band in New York who happen to be James's current obsession.

"We have to go." He says to Carlos, the fire in his stomach quickly giving way to adrenaline.  
>"We totally have to go!" shouts Carlos, practically jumping out of his own skin. Around them, the crowd begins to float back to the stage as the lights begin to go down.<p>

_Well_, thinks James, at _least things are looking up_.

* * *

><p>"He's cute."<p>

"Married."

"What about him? He gave me a weird eye-thingy earlier…"

"Gay."

"Him?"

"Bruce? Ah, no. Super gay. He's wearing mesh, Camille, bright pink mesh. Apparently you have no awareness for painfully obvious sexuality preferences."

"You mean gaydar? I'm pretty sure you broke mine."

"Hey!" Protests Kendall, but Camille only smiles and blows him a kiss.

"Ugh. I hate boys." She says, throwing her hands to her sides, "All the hot ones are either taken or…" she trails off disappointedly, her gaze drifting over to James, who is slouched on a stool at the bar and-  
>"Is he actually pouting?" asks Kendall incredulously, Camille nods and gives him a nudge,<br>"Yup. You should go talk to him."

"Why?"

"Because he's sad. And hot. And you've been licking your lips for the last twenty minutes."

He's not whipped by his best friend. He swears. But James is, in fact, hot, and sad, and hot people shouldn't be sad. And they _really_shouldn't pout in public. So he goes over there, Camille trailing behind, making awkwardly forward eye-contact with seemingly every guy in the bar.

"Everything ok?" asks Kendall as he sits at the stool next to James, who hardly even looks up at Kendall's intrusion.  
>"No." he replies sullenly,<br>"Come on," grins Kendall, shoving James' shoulder gently, "You can talk to me. I mean, I _was_your boyfriend after all." James looks at Kendall and, thankfully, gives a small laugh.  
>"Carlos," James points at the dark-haired guy next to him, "found a clue to the location of a Wake up New York gig, tonight."<br>"A guerilla gig?" interrupts Camille excitedly, ignoring Kendall's head shaking.  
>"We have to go," she says pointedly, digging her fingernails into Kendall's forearm.<p>

"It's at Madrigal's, but my other band-mates want to be pussies and just take the gear straight home, and that leaves Carlos and I without a ride home."  
>"Kendall has a car!" grins Camille as Kendall laughs uncomfortably at the onslaught of hopeful grinning faces everywhere he turns.<p>

"I sure do!"

He's pretty sure he should have left Camille to hit on Bruce.

* * *

><p>Kendall doesn't know why he agreed to this. Camille and James' friend Carlos sit in the back, chattering loudly about Carlos' dream girl and Camille's plans of rebellion, which seem to involve kissing many different men and a tattoo of a unicorn.<p>

Kendall's pretty sure Camille's idea of wild-child behavior is taken straight from TV and Film, given her intensive dance lessons, method acting seminars and weekend workshops have left her mostly devoid of an actual social life.

The New York nightlife has been his territory for a long time, having been dragged along with his Dad into the city countless times since he was a kid. He used to think of it as an adventure, with his Dad playing the role of brave Captain on their wild journeys through the flashing lights and thumping music of the big city.

It was the greatest.

None of the other kids at school got to go out and see live music every weekend, let alone tumble through the door at two in the morning on a school night, everything around them lit with a warm glow that wouldn't subside until breakfast.

Beside him, James sits, looking incredibly out of place. Up close, the stage make-up is even more obvious, the scent of his cologne even more obnoxious. Kendall's car is a 30-year old bomb that barely runs, and in it, James, with his glittery cheeks and flashy clothes, sticks out like a sore thumb.

A sore thumb that is currently flipping through Kendall's CD collection.

"Dude. You have The National, Green Day's good stuff, and the Broadway cast recording of Hairspray?" asks James incredulously,  
>"That's my sister's!" snaps Kendall.<p>

It's a bald-faced lie, and Kendall's not even sure why he says it, because seriously, what can a guy with a sparkly collarbone really say about one of the most uplifting musicals of all time?

* * *

><p>Madrigal's is a hole.<p>

James should know. He's played there six times in the last three months.

It's dingy and dirty, with blood red walls, ancient orange lanterns hanging from the roof, and dusty, under-swept floors. Of course, it's New York, so there's still a line a mile long, which James is not looking forward to standing in.

Sure, Kendall's car is old and gross, and Kendall keeps shooting James weird looks every time he touches Kendall's stuff, but the ride has been kind of fun, what with Carlos and Camille belting out hairspray tunes and boy-band songs with every embarrassing CD James has found in Kendall's stash.

Right now they're belting out Girl to My Heart with vigor, and Kendall is burning a hole in the back of the car in front with just his eyes.

Angry looks good on Kendall, James decides.  
>He's also decided to stop inwardly mocking him for his fashion-sense and to stop calling him Farmboy, because after all, he is doing them a massive favor. James already likes him more then he likes Shaun or Eric.<br>When Kendall's mad, his cheeks get a nice pink tinge to them, and it's pretty cute.  
>Shaun and Eric are never cute. Which may be a part of the reason James recruited them into the band.<p>

The thought of leaving this cozy seat is making James moody again, but at least Madrigal's awful appearance plays to their favor. Wake up New York always performs in the least likely of places, and it can't get much more unlikely than this. Still, James doesn't really enjoy the thought of lining up to get into that sinkhole, even if it is to see the greatest band in the universe.

"This line is loooong." Whines James once they've parked the car.  
>"We'll be in soon enough." Says Kendall sharply. Apparently he doesn't find James' sad face as adorable as everyone else, which is preposterous.<p>

"But I want to see Wake up New York now!"

"They're not even on for an hour!"

"I just can't believe we're going to see them," Carlos grins, and says dreamily, "Lucy Stone. In person."

"Yeah," James sighs, "She's hot."

Kendall scuffs his sneaker into the ground,  
>"She's ok, I guess."<p>

"OK? OK?" an outraged Carlos shouts. "Lucy Stone is the rock and roll goddess of my dreams!"  
>Kendall rolls his eyes, and James laughs.<p>

"Aren't you gay?" Kendall turns on James, cocky smirk firmly in place. James just smiles in return,  
>"I have a healthy appreciation for attractive people. Gender is of no concern to me."<p>

"Of course" says Kendall, and if he notices Camille poking him in the ribs, he ignores it.

It's another ten minutes before anything remotely interesting happens.

James discusses hair treatments and the acting classes he used to attend in middle school with Kendall's gal pal, and Kendall and Carlos talk hockey once Carlos has stopped giving him the evil eye, but it's not particularly exciting.

While they wait amongst the crowd, James keeps finding himself watching Kendall. The way he fidgets and can't stay still, running his hand through his hair every few minutes is kind of enchanting.  
>James would like to touch Kendall's hair. It looks soft, and he didn't really get a chance to properly appreciate it earlier.<p>

Unfortunately, the spell is broken by the arrival of a pretty blonde girl in a tiny red dress and her posse of interchangeable red-haired sidekicks.

"Kendall, hi!" exclaims Blondie excitedly, though the glint in her eye tells a different story.

"Hi Mercedes." Kendall grits out, sticking his hands in his pocket and shifting away from Blondie and her overwhelming flowery perfume.

"Should have figured you'd be here. Insider knowledge I presume?" She winks at Kendall, and his cheeks flush with heat.

"But why on earth are you lining up out here with all of these weirdos? Surely your daddy hasn't lost that much credibility."

James has no idea what's going on, but suddenly they're being swept through the closed doors of Madrigal's and into the waiting arms of handsy coat-check girls and promoters who all greet Kendall and Mercedes by name and the next thing he knows James is sitting in the VIP lounge of Madrigal's (the VIP lounge he didn't even know EXISTED) and being handed a martini by a giggling waitress in a tube top.

"Ooh, there's my new boyfriend!" Squeals Mercedes, and she and her entourage are gone in a flash, leaving the four of them sitting alone in overstuffed armchairs, Kendall redder than ever and looking as though he'd like to disappear into the floor.

"So…" Kendall says, looking up but avoiding eye contact with James.

"This place is a hole, right?"


	3. The angels never arrived

Kendall's not spoiled. He likes to make that very clear, because it's something that's always been so important to his Mom. She made sure that he and Katie had the most normal life possible, which is hard when your father is Hank Knight, big time club owner turned record producer.

It's hard to have normal when your Dad practically owns half the city.

"Your dad has fingers in a lot of big city pies," Kendall's mom used to say when she tucked him in and his Dad wasn't home to read a story or whatever.

"He loves you." She said that a lot too, even after the split.

People know Kendall all through the town, because they know Hank. Everyone knows Hank. It's the same wherever he goes; musicians, club managers, promoters, wannabe music journalists, they all treat Kendall like some sort of prince. Look at him and touch him as if he's something precious and valuable. As if he's worth something.

Of course what they really think is that getting close to Kendall means getting close to his Dad.

It pisses him off.

Kendall just wants to play hockey and have friends and do whatever dumb stuff guys do. His Dad would very much like him to be a part of the wild nightlife, to do the things Camille's pretending to do. His PR staff wants that to, they're not subtle with the gifts they send him, the hints they drop about how much money tabloid magazines will pay for just one insane night of drugs, alcohol and public embarrassment. Kendall is not that guy; they're all looking in the wrong direction.

Besides, if anyone gets to be close to his Dad, shouldn't it be him?

His main problem is the sheer fakeness of the whole thing. It's clichéd, but Kendall is big on honesty, and everything about music is driven by money and power, it's stopped, for the most part, being about actual music.  
>Which is fine by his Dad, who just enjoys the attention and a quick buck, but it makes Kendall queasy to see the piles of demos that sit in a storage room at his Dad's studio.<p>

CD's that contain months and months of work and heartbreak from poor college kids who just want a chance at the Big Time. Thousands and thousands of the things come through the door at Armor Records, each to be sent a 'personalized' note of rejection from Hank Knight himself, telling them to keep trying, to never give up.

Thousands of dreams crushed by the hand of his Dad's 20-year old assistant and the forged signature she's learnt to perfect.

Kendall likes the music, he feels the sound and the lyric of every moment. Words on their own don't do that much, but music speaks to him like nothing else. It makes more sense than anything else.

The band is fake, by the way.

Wake up New York is not the band that takes the Madrigal's stage, the only acknowledgement of the bait and switch is the graffiti scrawled across the kick-drum. It reads 'Close but No Cigar.'  
>It's not the first time WUNY has pulled crap like this.<br>The crowd groans, but once the glasses of free apology alcohol are passed around, the anger subsides.

Mostly.

Ten minutes later and Carlos is still fuming, brow furrowed as a curvy Blonde sits by his side and regales him with stories of her sorority sisters and her new puppy. Camille would be mad too, but she is currently preoccupied by a tall Wall Street type, who keeps surreptitiously staring at her boobs. And James? James is pouting again. And eating all the complimentary potato chips he can.

But mostly pouting.

Kendall wonders if it's because Wake up New York didn't play or if he's just mad now that everyone in the bar is getting free booze instead of just the stupid VIP section.

"I'm gonna go get some air, you guys right in here?"  
>Camille, tongue down the throat of Wall Street gives him a thumbs up, Carlos just gives a wave.<br>But James jumps up from his seat immediately, spilling chips everywhere.

"I'll come with you!"

_Awesome._

"I think it's really cool. You're like a mini-celebrity and those waitresses were all hot and I never even knew that Madrigal's had a VIP section and I'm pretty sure those were the greatest potato chips I've ever had in my entire life…"

The entire walk is like this, Kendall walking a few steps ahead of James as James talks non-stop about the perks of being the c-list celebrity kid of a b-list celebrity. Kendall's not sure where he's walking to exactly, but he eventually sits on the enormous steps of an old library, hoping the quiet rule applies to the whole building. James does not sit, preferring to pace around and continue talking endlessly.

"Why did you come with me anyway?" snaps Kendall suddenly, causing James to stop midsentence and stare confusedly.  
>"I mean, it's pretty clear you were enjoying all that V.I.P crap."<p>

"Oh believe me, I was. That was awesome. But you wanted air and it's New York and you're dressed like a farm hand." Kendall rolls his eyes and James shrugs,  
>"You may be a New Yorker, but I couldn't leave you all alone out here…Boyfriends and all that, right?"<p>

Kendall might recognize something like hope in James' voice, but he also recognizes the slip of paper sticking out of James' pocket as official Madrigal's stationery, probably Marion's phone number, and everything else seems incredibly unimportant.

"The five minutes is over James."  
>But James' attention has moved to the building around them, he's staring up at the stone pillars that line the entrance and looking wistful.<p>

"Logan loved it here." He says it almost absentmindedly, as though Kendall weren't its intended audience. James seems smaller here, like the lack of color and sound and light, makes his bold vibrancy fade just a little. It makes him seem more real, standing in the shadows, where the make-up and the hair aren't there to be distractions. It's nice.

"He used to try to tell me about planets and stuff." James continues, smiling just a little.  
>"Physics," says Kendall fondly, remembering 8th grade science projects and polystyrene solar systems.<p>

James nods, "Once I told him that the only kind of science I was interested in was whatever science could make animals smaller. Like an elephant the size of a coffee table. Or a handheld lion." Kendall shakes his head,  
>"I'm pretty sure those already exist. They're called cats."<br>James looks down, scuffing the toe of his boot into the concrete step.

"Yeah. That's what Logan said. He stopped trying to bring me here after that."

"How did that work anyway? You and Logan."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he's a genius and you're-"

"Ridiculously good looking?"James raises an eyebrow in challenge, Kendall smiles,  
>"Sure, let's go with that."<p>

"I don't know. It was just easy; I didn't have to be something I wasn't." Says James, lanky body flopping down onto the step next to Kendall.

"Plus he's a really good kisser. Well, he was after I showed him the ropes anyway." He smiles, but it's not the big dazzling grin Kendall has come to expect.

It's gentler somehow, something secret, for Kendall's eyes only.

"So do you like Wake up New York?" James asks abruptly, kicking at the step. Kendall shakes his head at the sudden shift,  
>"I like their music. I don't know about the theatrics so much. But they're better than The Regiment."<p>

"Oh my God, I know, right? They are so overrated. And when they pee, they don't wash their hands. I followed two of them into the bathroom backstage before the show. It was so gross." Kendall grins,  
>"You followed them into the bathroom?"<p>

"What?" asks James indignantly, "I pee when I'm nervous! Like you don't ever get nervous."

"Only until I'm on the ice." Kendall laughs at James' confused face, "I'm a hockey player."

"Hockey player by day, demigod of the city by night?" James nudges Kendall and breaks into that show-face once more, but Kendall doesn't respond.

"What's your story?" James asks, cocking his head.  
>Kendall thinks about V.I.P lounges and tabloid magazines and True Hollywood Stories and feels his body begin to tense up once more,<br>"What story?" he asks, shifting his body away from James,  
>"Well you agreed to be the five minute boyfriend of a complete stranger, no arguments. That's probably not normal, so that means there's a story there. So what is it, Desperate virgin? Just got out of a vow of celibacy? Spurned by an ex-lover?"<p>

"Yup."

"Oh."

"She's an actress," Kendall says, ignoring James' resulting smirk, "She got a job in New Zealand, and dumped me before she left. Then the movie fell through, she came back, and is now dating her co-star. They make out a lot in public places, which is just awesome."

"Ouch."

"Yup."

They sit in silence for a while after that, and it's nice just to sit and take in the sounds of the city.

"For what it's worth," says Kendall slowly, "I think a coffee table elephant would be cool."

There's a pause.

"I know right! You could rest your drinks on it, and it could spray you with water on hot days…"  
>James' eyes light up and his smile is back to full wattage as he leans back and rests his hand on Kendall's knee.<p>

Kendall's heart flutters.

_Oh._ He thinks. _Well shit_.

* * *

><p>On the walk back to Madrigal's James is happy. And he's happy that he's happy because ever since Logan dumped him at the smoothie bar, he's really just alternated between angry and sad.<br>And that sucked.

But tonight has been cool, mostly because Kendall, despite his clothes and his weird aversion to people liking him, is pretty damn cool.  
>Plus he didn't laugh too hard at James' tiny elephant idea, and as that's pretty much the greatest idea James has ever had, he appreciates this.<p>

So it's pretty much the best night in a while, until they run into Lucy Stone of Wake up New York, and then it's the greatest night of his life.

They're two blocks away from Madrigal's when Kendall's phone goes off. It's done that a few times now, and each time Kendall has looked at the screen and stuffed it back in his pocket. But this time it's a text from Camille saying that she and Carlos are totally going to a strip club, and that he and James should really join them.

James is intrigued. Kendall not so much.

"Some of them are very talented ok? Or at least that's what my Dad tells me. He should know too, he married one. She's surprisingly lovely by the way. Makes a mean cheesecake." Kendall rolls his eyes, yet again,  
>"Of course you like them; they're the only people in the world who use as much glitter and hair product as you do!"<p>

And then someone calls Kendall's name.

At first it's like, hooray, another person calling Kendall's name, this'll improve his mood.  
>But then James turns around and sees Lucy Freakin' Stone coming towards them and he just about dies on the spot.<p>

"Kendall Knight." She says, grinning like the Cheshire cat "Isn't it past your bedtime?"

Kendall bristles and tenses up beside James, making him acutely aware of how close their arms were to touching as they walked side by side,

"Hey Lucy," Kendall says coolly, body rigid, "You without your little fan-boy entourage tonight?"

"Oh Pumpkin," she simpers, "You know none of them could hold a candle to you."

James has no idea what's going on, and his brain has turned to mush, because yes, Lucy Stone is Carlos' dream girl, but she's in leather and smiling and her dark hair is streaked in red this week, and it's really shiny and whatever, James can dream too.

He thinks she's actually flirting with Kendall though, and that makes his stomach feel all twisty again.

"Who's your friend?" She asks Kendall, but she's now looking James up and down, eyes sparkling, she steps towards him and smirks,  
>"He's cute Buddy, maybe he could join us."<p>

James doesn't know what exactly he's being invited in to, but if he could get his mouth to co-operate with his brain, he'd _really_like to say yes.

Nothing, though, is working as it should be, and all he can do is stand and stare, frozen.

Kendall on the other hand, has free range of movement, and is a giant party pooper, fun ruiner, because he shifts his body so he's almost standing in front of James and practically growls at Lucy,  
>"You're not his type, Luce"<p>

"Really?" she giggles, high and feminine, a sharp contrast to her just about everything about her, from her clothes to her horrifying song titles.  
>"Cause he seems to disagree."<p>

Kendall looks at James' frozen form disgustedly, and snaps his fingers in front of his face.

"Hi." Squeaks James in Lucy's direction,

"See?" Kendall pretty much shouts, "He's fine!"  
>Lucy smiles.<p>

"Hi Sweetie," she says to James, "You look after him now, Hank Knight has a shotgun and he's not afraid to use it."

"Hank Knight?" is all James can utter softly as it all comes together, he turns to Kendall, who is glaring daggers at Lucy.

"You're Kendall Knight."

And then Kendall loses his ever-loving mind.

Grabbing James by the shoulders and kneeing him in the backside, he begins to ramble, and shoves James past Lucy and down the street,  
>"Ok, well it was nice to see you, but we have to go make sure Camille doesn't get abducted by or asked to become a stripper because if she gets it into her head that that would be a good idea for a role in the future, her dad may actually kill me, so we really need to go, don't we James, oh yeah, let's go. Bye Lucy!"<p>

"Hey," she calls after them, and James turns immediately,  
>"You should swing by The Rocque later. I have the V.I.P section tonight, may even play a few tracks…"<p>

Kendall looks like he's about to throw up.

He grabs James and once more starts marching them back towards Madrigal's.

James grins the whole way back. He's pretty sure this is the best night of his life.


	4. but I can hear the choir

Camille and Carlos stand outside Madrigal's with Bob from Bob's, who's looking as normal as ever in his tux and sandals, a pink drink umbrella sticking out of his beard.

Camille is draped in Carlos' jacket and swaying a little, she crash tackles Kendall as soon as Kendall and James get within ten meters of the taxi rank.

"Hii!" squeals Camille, hair flying, "How was your wa-alk?" she singsongs, and Kendall cocks an eyebrow at her.  
>"Where'd the guy in the suit go?" He asks of the Wall Street Mouthkisser,<br>"Oh that guy? He left hours ago. Something about all you can eat ribs. Now we're going to a strip club, it was Carlos' idea, isn't that great?"

Kendall doesn't think it's a great idea at all, but he hugs Camille close and smiles.

"Sounds wonderful. Very rebellious." She beams at this, staring up at him all starry-eyed and giggly.

"So did you guys have fun on your journey to find some air?" she asks, and Kendall shakes his head.

"You are drunk," is all he says,

"Delightfully so. Isn't it great? But seriously Kendall Knight, you and James should just fucking date already, because you're both awesome, but sad, and dating people makes you happy and Carlos and I think you should both be happy while dating together! Also, you should come to the strip club with us."

"Ok," says Kendall, despite all better instincts. "Where are we going and how are we going to get in? I don't have any, uh, _connections_."

The last word is a whisper for Camille's ears only. Not that it matters, James is in deep conversation with Carlos and not paying attention to Kendall and Camille anyway.

"I do." says Bob, who apparently hears like a bat. Kendall stares, open-mouthed,  
>"Don't you have a club to run?" Bob considers this for a moment, then shrugs,<br>"It's cool." He says, "I probably left someone in charge."

They last six minutes in the club. Bob's connections aren't quite as reliable as Kendall's, and the quality of the venue is not really to their standard.

"Well, that was an experience." Says Kendall once they're back in the car.

"How do I un-experience it?" asks Carlos, hugging his knees to his chest.

"They had nice hair, I guess." Offers James weakly, looking positively green.

"I still can't believe that thing with the duck. That was really something," says Camille, unflinchingly chipper.

They drive for ten minutes before they realize they left Bob behind.

"You know, it's probably for the best," says Kendall. No-one argues.

* * *

><p>James is glad when karaoke is suggested as a palate-cleanser, and Carlos offers to drive, allowing Kendall to actually have a few drinks and, hopefully, relax a little.<br>Ever since they ran into Lucy Stone he's barely looked at James, instead opting to stare moodily at much less attractive things, such as the ground.

He kind of forgets about it once they enter the bar though, because it's there that Camille blows his mind.

Camille is an amazing duet partner. Up there on stage she shines, everything about her is magnified, extraordinarily vibrant and beautiful.  
>James is pretty sure he's never met someone more perfectly suited to the stage, even himself.<p>

By the fourth rendition of Endless Love (One practice, one with the expected gender roles, one with swapped gender roles and one 'good' one) James is pretty sure he has a new best friend, Carlos is giving a standing ovation and while Kendall is shaking his head, he's also smiling.

Though it's still a surprise when Kendall gets up and takes to the stage.

James isn't expecting much, Kendall has barely mentioned anything about music all night, listing hockey and hockey alone as his one passion, only asking a few questions about James and the band.

Then Felix, the bartender, drags out his acoustic guitar and sends it up to the stage and suddenly it's less karaoke and more a chance for James to stare in shock as Kendall sings.

Kendall is _good_.

James has no idea what he's singing, only that it's beautiful.

Kendall could be singing about the Ebola virus right now, and still every word would sound sweet and sad and wrap itself around James' heart in a way that leaves a permanent mark.

He wants to sit and listen forever, to keep Kendall and the guitar in a constant serenade by his side, but as soon as it begins, it's over. Another singer takes the stage, the guitar is gone, and Kendall is refusing to return James' gaze.

He doesn't know what to say. He's never been great with words, all of The Next Big Thing's songs are written by Shaun, and James is just the super hot mouthpiece.

But Kendall's voice feels like something James could write actual poetry about, songs even.

He's only ever written one song. A broken ballad written in his old treehouse, the night he caught Logan kissing another guy for the first time, two months after they'd started dating. He ran straight home and wrote like the wind, scrawling lyrics onto his mother's best stationery, tears and ink mixing in a barely legible melody.

He put it on one of Logan's mix CDs once, just to see what would happen.  
>Logan never mentioned it.<p>

James may accost Kendall in the bathroom.

"How come you didn't tell me you could do that?" he says as Kendall splashes water on his face.

"It didn't come up."

"But Dude, you're amazing." Kendall rolls his eyes,  
>"I think you're delirious from too much Endless Love."<p>

"Kendall, come on. You can't be serious right now. Why aren't you out there? That was awesome, what the hell is stopping you?" Kendall just looks at him, tired, the way his mother use to look at the end of 12 hour working days and all James wanted to do was sing for her.

"It's not like you don't have connections; surely one of those club owners would give you a spot! Or your Dad?"  
>Kendall stares, stony-faced,<br>"I'm a hockey player, James, not a singer."

"But you could be famous!" James cries, exasperated.

"Not everyone wants to be a stupid popstar." Kendall rolls his eyes like it doesn't matter.

It does though. The words cut James to the quick, but true to form, he brushes it off.

"Of course they do! Everybody wants to be famous!"

"I don't."

"Well apparently, you're _insane_."

"Just drop it, James."

"Fine." James shouts, and turns to leave, but feels Kendall's hand close firmly on his wrist.

"Don't," is all Kendall says before he steps forward and kisses him, hard.

Blood is rushing to his head before James can even register what's happening, and then they're tearing at each other's clothes and hair, kissing and pulling at anything they can get a firm grip on.

Kendall's teeth dig into James' lower lip until he tastes blood, and, shifting in retaliation, he nips at Kendall's neck, and sucks at the skin until it blooms red, a mark to stay in semi-permanence, one to match his own. A reminder that James was there, solid and real in every way.

Kendall only laughs, the cocky smirk never leaving his face.

It's infuriating.

"You wear a ridiculous amount of glitter." Says Kendall matter-of-factly.

James kind of wants to hit him.

"You think you can get whatever you want." He says as Kendall nibbles his earlobe, "Just because they all know your name. You think you're better than me, because I want to be famous."

James can live with anger. He can live with Kendall being all self-righteous and too good for James' dreams.  
>Anger is all he's really felt lately, once he moved past the hurt at least. But now as Kendall smiles that smile and goes for his lips once more, every motion brimming with the swagger of ownership, of power, the anger is a burden, pushing on James' chest and making it hard to breathe.<p>

"I can't." He mutters, and Kendall goes cold.

They leave the bathroom minutes apart.

When Kendall suggests they head to The Rocque to catch Lucy and Wake up New York, James only nods.

Silence is not something James deals with very well. Carlos has barely pulled out into the traffic before James is bored and restless.

He resorts to flicking through Kendall's insane CD collection once more, wondering how someone can possibly enjoy such awesome bands and also BoyzCity.

At the bottom of the pile is a loose disk, which James picks up out of curiosity. The CD is unlabelled, the only one of its kind, and a little scratched from use and time.

James puts it on because he likes mysteries, and riddles, and fun things like that.  
>When his own voice fills the car, cracking and breaking to the rhythm of the guitar, James can't breathe.<p>

He was never completely in the dark.

James knew that Logan had a wandering eye, knew that his intentions were never to hurt James outright, but that he was trying to figure himself out.  
>For Logan that meant the scientific approach of trying out every possible method he could find.<p>

So there were other guys, and occasionally girls, who helped Logan on his path to figuring out who he was. And that was fine.

James didn't have this problem. He was acutely aware of who and what he was from the time he could walk. James was a Diamond, he was strong and resilient and could shine like no other, these were the things his mother had told him whenever he caught her crying in her bedroom, or rearranging the furniture for the 17th time that week.

He was very much like his mother, feeling everything so sharply that it cut to the bone, leaving everything else by the wayside, blurry and unfocused in its unimportance.

"You need goals." His mother had said. "Goals are there for when everything feels too hard. You can never lose your way as long as you never lose your dream."

All he wanted was her happiness, really, to make her smile the way she used to.  
>His solution was the little concerts he put on for her in the kitchen, the way her eyes lit up when he sang for only her.<br>When she looked at him, proudly, the way she'd once looked at his Dad, he felt whole.

It made it easier to deal with everything that went on around him. It was his, his own private dream. James was going to be famous, a popstar, and that was that.

So when he fell in love with a boy who didn't know what he was feeling, James focused on his dream and pushed everything else aside, because that was something else that Diamond's did, the very best protection for the most fragile of hearts.

* * *

><p>Kendall took the CD from Logan's laptop bag while Logan was busy flirting with the coffee guy after school one day. He copied it at his Dad's studio and returned it the next time he saw him. It was swift and sneaky, and totally worth it.<p>

It's strange to look at James and hear his voice echo through the speakers as it has one hundred times before, because unlike those times Kendall listened alone, aching for someone who could understand everything, at this moment he could reach over and touch him.

The boy with the voice, the one that's carried Kendall's heart for so long without even knowing it.

"How did you get this?" asks James quietly, eyes on the floor.  
>"I'm sorry," is all Kendall manages to say in reply. He thinks about telling the truth, about coming out as a stalkerthief. He doesn't get the chance.

"Wait," says James, eyes suddenly full of hope, "Did your Dad give you this?"

Because that's it really. Everything, all the time, every good thing in Kendall's life, is tainted by Hank Knight.

* * *

><p>It takes a moment to actually figure out what's going on. How his voice is echoing though Kendall's speakers. He looks over at Carlos, looking just as confused as James feels, and remembers playing the song for him, just once, how he'd never seen Carlos heartbroken before, and never wanted to again.<p>

And then he remembers. The only other people he gave his song to.

James' heart soars.

He never heard back from Hank Knight from Armor records or anyone else he sent his demo to, frankly. But if Kendall has the CD, Hank must have listened to it too...  
>"Wait; did your Dad give you this? Did he actually like my song? I didn't hear anything back but I just assumed he didn't listen but if you have it…that means something right?" He's desperate now, but Kendall's looking at him gravely, and it sends shivers down James' spine.<p>

"Stop the car." Kendall commands, and Carlos obliges, pulling out of the traffic swiftly.

"We're here. You should go." Kendall continues gruffly, and continues to stare at James, eyes like fire.

"I can't give you what you want." He says, "I haven't spoken to my Dad in a month, I can't make you famous, so just go." James falters,  
>"Kendall, I-"<p>

"Get out of my car, and go."

* * *

><p>"Your phones ringing."<p>

It's the first thing Camille's said since they left the car.  
>Kendall looks at the caller id, rolls his eyes and puts the phone away.<p>

"Jo. Again." He says to Camille, who looks at him sadly.

He's been ducking her calls and texts all night. Her name flashing on his screen sending him into memories of drunken dance parties and hungry kisses under flashing lights.

Then he's at Bob's, fingers around James' throat as James moves in to kiss him. Next he's shoving James against the wall in the bathroom of the karaoke bar, tasting and touching like it's all he can do to survive.

Then James pushes away from him, and it's all so damn familiar that Kendall just can't take it.

He finishes his beer in one go.

"Why don't you go find Carlos and have some more fun," he says to Camille, aware that so far her night has been a bust. "I think he was outside checking out some guy's motorbike." Camille shakes her head,  
>"And leave you in here to mope? I don't think so."<br>Kendall looks up and sees a flash of familiar red-streaked hair, and gets an idea.  
>"Go. I'll be fine, trust me."<p>

He disappears into the crowd, hot on the heels of Lucy Stone, the scent of James still lingering on his clothes.  
>He bursts through the door of Lucy's change room, where she's settling down with her guitar on a musty red couch.<p>

"Let's do it." Says Kendall by way of greeting, watching her turn and stare at him in surprise.

"You want me? Have me."  
>Lucy smiles.<p> 


	5. so let's raise a cup

James has never smoked a cigarette.

His voice, being his instrument of choice, has never allowed it.  
>Plus yellowed fingertips are gross.<p>

But right now, sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, watching people mill around him, smoking in short sharp puffs, he could really use a drag.

He's decided he has to hate Kendall. Kendall and his beautiful music and his stupid face and even stupider Dad, is the most annoying person in the world right now. And James should hate him; he really should, because he's a jerk, and a confusing jerk at that. But he can't.

This is unfortunate, because James has had enough confusing jerks to last a lifetime.

He's watching Camille and Carlos chatting to a guy with a ridiculously shiny motorcycle and thinking about all of this when Logan slides down onto the concrete beside him, cigarette in hand, wrapped in a silver tuxedo jacket two sizes too big.

"Hey." He says, so casually that James could knock him out then and there.

"Hey." He says instead, and Logan smiles in return.

As James' insides fizz a little, he curses himself, and stares resolutely out into the street. 

"What are you doing here?"

* * *

><p>Jo was a nice girl.<p>

She was.

She was soft and pretty and gentle, but she was also strong and independent and never took any of Kendall's crap.  
>He really, really liked her.<p>

There was a problem though. Something he tried not to think about too much, but couldn't help but notice.  
>Jo was never big on public displays of affection. This was perfectly understandable, because that was often gross.<br>And Kendall was fine with that, until he realized she wasn't big on any displays of affection past sweet g-rated kisses, even in the privacy of home.

But because Kendall was not a total dick, he didn't push the physical stuff. He was respectful, because that's what he was taught to be, and besides, he really liked Jo. He liked to make her laugh, liked to listen to her ridiculous stories about Camille's latest plans or Logan's new experiments.

He kind of loved her.

So he would go slowly and sweet with her, kisses and gentle caresses, before running all the way home to a shower, her name running in circles through his mind, his teeth cutting in his forearm.

She never lied to him about it, her reasons for wanting to wait, but that didn't make it any easier.

He's run into her twice since she returned from New Zealand in the arms of her ex-co-star (Kendall may have misunderstood a group text and gone to meet her at the airport, flowers in hand) and both times she's been intertwined with the new guy, connected at the tonsils with no sign of slowing down.

He thinks about laying on Jo's sofa, about wandering hands and distant eyes, his sudden loneliness as she would pull away at the last second.  
>He thinks about James in that damn bathroom, eyes full of dark sadness as he shied away from Kendall's touch.<p>

That's when it occurs to Kendall that maybe the problem wasn't Jo, or sex, or Jo and sex.  
>Maybe the problem was him.<p>

This is why he goes to Lucy.

* * *

><p>"I'm not a villain, you know," says Logan as he nurses his hot chocolate. They're out of the gutter now, and sitting in an all hours sandwich shop.<p>

"Really? Cause that goatee makes you look like a cartoon." Replies James evenly. Logan rolls his eyes,  
>"I think it looks debonair. And besides, trying new things is important at this point in our lives."<p>

"You look evil. And weird. And did you have to try that new guy in front of me? At my own show?"

"I didn't mean for that to happen!" Says Logan hurriedly, but James feels the burn of hot anger begin to rise once more.

"That's the best you've got? You knew I was going to be there! You're supposed to be smart!"

"Yeah. Kendall always used to say I was pretty dumb for a genius."

"You're also a jerk."  
>"I am."<p>

"What?"

"I said I am. You're right, I'm a jerk."

"What?"

"What do you want me to do James, I can't keep apologizing!"

"I don't want an apology, I just want to understand."

"No. You don't."

"Yes, I do. Tell me why you broke it off or I will pour my hot chocolate all over your boyfriend's jacket"

"You loved me."

James stares. That is the stupidest thing he's ever heard. And Carlos thinks that leprechauns exist, so…

"You loved me and I didn't feel the same way. It's not a crime, James, and I didn't mean to hurt you, but it would have only been made worse had I allowed things to continue. It had to end. I'm sorry"

James considers this a moment. Remembers walking in on Logan and that guy from the coffee shop, and running home in the wind and rain.

"Ok." he says finally, to Logan's surprise.

"Ok?"

"But you shouldn't have cheated on me. That sucked."

"That is...valid. I am sorry about that. I didn't not care about you, ok? I just didn't care as much as you and it felt unfair to keep going like that. Like I was keeping all that love to myself, instead of letting you give it to someone who deserves it."

"I guess that makes sense."

There's silence. Or as much silence as New York on a Saturday night can offer.

"You were really good tonight. I like it when you sing that way, when you get all emotional, it really resonates."

"Thanks. Um, I should probably apologize too. Not as much as you of course but, uh, about Kendall. I didn't know you guys were friends; I thought he was just a poorly-dressed stranger. Who I wanted to use to make you jealous"

"Kendall's a good guy." Says Logan slowly.

"Yeah," James smiles. "I even told him about my tiny elephant idea, and he only laughed a little."  
>Logan laughs.<br>"Of course he did."

"Were you jealous?" asks James seriously. Logan smiles at him,  
>"Totally."<br>"Good."

"So, you guys aren't dating then?"

"No," James frowns, "I thought there might be something, but he got super mad at me."

"Yeah. He has a little problem with anger management." Logan laughs again, but James sighs.

"I think I really like him, Logan."  
>"Yeah, that'll happen."<p>

* * *

><p>Lucy confuses Kendall.<p>

He's known her since they were toddlers, running around studios and backstage at gigs, driving their fathers insane and wooing performers and officials city-wide.

She's been teasing him about sex since they were thirteen.

He first kissed a guy in her bedroom when they were fourteen.

They've played this game, this flirtation, this competition, since they were sixteen. They taunt and tease, and don't back down until they come close to kissing, and fall apart in peals of laughter.

Sometimes her eyes flash something serious, as though she really does want to throw down and do this for real. It's usually gone in a matter of seconds.

Lucy doesn't need him; not really, she's followed by adoring fans where ever she goes. Young men with bright eyes and torn t-shirts chase after her like lost puppies, hopelessly in love with his rockstar best friend.

She's standing now, taking his measure as he stands in her doorway. She looks him up and down, intrigued.

"Have me." He repeats himself, anger still pulsing through his veins. She moves towards him confidently, as she always does, a smirk playing on her lips and she reaches up and kisses him deeply, slamming the door shut with her free hand.

He lifts his own hands and touches her hair, but it feels all wrong somehow.

He feels her bite his lip a little, but the sensation is not the thrill it was before.

_With James_

He kisses Lucy harder, trying to push James out of his mind. It doesn't work.

"This isn't working." She says as she pulls away, still smiling as though she has all the answers.  
>"Of course it is." He says bullishly, and starts to tug at her leather jacket.<p>

"Kendall-"

"It could!" says Kendall defensively, but Lucy shakes her head.

"Why now?" she asks, already knowing the answer.

"I just want you." He lies, badly.

"God." She laughs now, rich and high, carefree. And then she takes his hand, and leads him to the couch.

"You need to stop. _We_ need to stop." She says, all light gone from her eyes. That scares him a bit.

"I think it's time this game finished."

"No, it makes sense!" He says, arms flailing wildly now that Lucy's out of reach.  
>"We've been friends forever, we flirt like crazy, and we're both awesome! Surely that's-"<p>

"You're gay." Lucy says bluntly.

"No, I…" Kendall starts to argue, but deflates against the couch.

"Don't like labels, I know." Lucy says gently, moving back over and placing a hand on his knee. "Tell me about the pretty boy from earlier."

So he does.

He tells her about James, and all that has happened, the way he can still feel James' hand on his own, the way he wants to destroy him, but also, maybe just wants him.

And Lucy listens, and it's the most honest and pure moment they've had in years, the bravado and the teasing put aside as she smiles at him genuinely before breaking into a (more familiar) shit-eating grin.

"You need to sack-up." She says, and Kendall stares in disbelief. "You like him. Cut the crap and go get him."

"It's not that easy."

"Actually Buddy, the way he was looking at you, when he wasn't looking at me that is, I think it is that easy."

"But you…"

"Yeahhh. I'm a rockstar, and I've been dating my bassist for three and a half months. I think I'll be ok."

Kendall stares.

Lucy shoves him.

"Now, go get yourself a pretty boyfriend!"

* * *

><p>"We rode a motorcycle!" Grins Camille as she and Carlos pounce on James by the bar.<p>

"And got tattoos!" adds Carlos gleefully. The tattoo is fake, and looks fake, but their excitement is palpable and James is feeling pretty buzzed himself at this point, so he's happy to look past it.

"Have you guys seen Kendall?" He half shouts above the crowd, who are getting louder in anticipation of WUNY.

"I have." Answers Mercedes Griffin, smiling as she sidles up and puts her hand on Carlos' shoulder. Carlos looks as though he could faint. Camille just rolls her eyes.

"He came out of Lucy Stone's dressing room a few minutes ago. They were all sweaty and dishevelled. Like homeless people running a marathon or something." She grins and waves as she walks away.

James feels his heart drop.

"James, are you ok?" asks Camille,

"No." says James. And then he runs.

Kendall's searching the crowd for Camille when he's yanked into the girls' bathroom.

"You have got to stop doing that!" He shouts, but Camille stands with her arms crossed, her face grave.

"Did you sleep with Lucy Stone?" she asks evenly,

"No? Where did you…No, no! I didn't. I was going to, but nothing happened. We just talked."

"Were you talking about sex?"

"No? We were talking about James, so, kind of yes, I guess…"

Kendall breaks into a smile, "Where is James anyway? I have to tell him something."  
>"He's gone. He left when Mercedes told him she caught you sneaking out of Lucy's change room."<p>

Kendall pushes and shoves his way to the front door of the club, Camille hot on his tail. Carlos is waiting there, Kendall's car keys in hand, his face even more serious than Camille's.

"What the hell did you do?" Shouts Carlos as he barrels into Kendall, slamming him against the brick wall.

"I didn't do anything!"

"Really? That's what you're going with?"

"Dude, I swear, nothing happened. I don't want to hurt James. Well I did a little, but not anymore. And Lucy and I just talked, and now I need to find James, because I fucked everything up. "

Carlos rolls his eyes, but lowers his hands from Kendall's chest.  
>"You're an idiot."<p>

"Yeah."

"He doesn't need any more bullshit, ok?"

"I swear I'm not going to do that to him. I'm not Logan" Carlos sighs,  
>"Fine. Palmwoods Diner, third booth on the right. That's where he'll be."<p>

Kendall turns to Camille,  
>"Cam?"<br>"Oh no, Genius, this mess is yours to fix. Besides," she says, slipping her hand into Carlos's, "I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

Kendall raises an eyebrow but says nothing, snatching his keys from Carlos' free hand and turning tail

"Hey!" Shouts Carlos behind him, "Don't make eye contact with the waitresses!"

* * *

><p>The Palmwoods is the most ridiculous place Kendall has ever seen.<p>

It makes total sense that this is James' favorite place in New York.

The place is insanely kitschy; with it's over the top 50's décor and Americana paraphernalia. It's bursting with bright reds and oranges, and the waitresses are in pink poodle skirts and its all very rock and roll and very very lame.

There's a jukebox in the centre of the restaurant, but there's also a stage off to the side, where a lone guitarist sits, hair gelled back Elvis-style, warbling out some lovesick old ballad to a small group of drunk and swaying teens. By the counter stands a round man in Elvis' jeweled tux, his own hair a sad impression of the guitarists'.

The three waitresses watch as Kendall enters, then walk towards him, every step in unison, and apparently slow motion, until they're right in front of him, and glaring.

"Can we help you?" asks the blonde in the middle,

"I'm looking for my friend." He mumbles, trying not to look at their faces, but also not their boobs, lest he get kicked in the crotch.

Or eaten alive.

The girls point, Kendall turns and walks, very quickly.  
>James is exactly where Carlos said he would be, seated at a table that is absolutely covered in food.<p>

"Did you order the entire menu?" Kendall says by way of greeting as he sits down opposite James, who gives only a fleeting glance in return.

"James?" Kendall presses, hopefully.

"Everything but the pasta marinara. It's gross." James mumbles into his fries.

"I didn't know what I wanted, except that I didn't want that. I'm pretty sure Carlos is the only person who eats the pasta here."

Every word is pouty and petulant, he's sulking, and it only makes Kendall feel worse. But when he looks up, there's a glint in his eye,  
>"You don't know what you want either, do you Kendall?" He's right of course, but only tonight, this night where everything's topsy turvy and Kendall's chest is full and heavy.<p>

Nothing is making sense tonight.

"Look, what Mercedes thought she saw."  
>James rolls his eyes,<br>"Let me guess, it isn't what I think? That's not familiar at all." Kendall feels awful, but James is pushing all his buttons, so naturally, he snaps,  
>"Hey, you were the one who said you couldn't do it or whatever."<p>

"Because you think you can just take whatever you want, and get away with it." James glares at him, daggers in Kendall's direction.  
>"What are you talking about?"<p>

"Everyone knows you here. You could walk into any record company in the city and get a damned three year contract, all because your daddy's Hank Knight, and its bullshit! Do you know how long I've been practicing? How long I've been working my ass off, just to get where I am? Where I am is nothing, Kendall, it's nothing, but at least I've earned it. So what if I didn't kiss you, you got what you wanted with Lucy anyway, right?"

"Ok, first of all, fuck you. Second of all, nothing happened between Lucy and me."

"Sure."

"No, seriously, James? Fuck you. Who gives a fuck if people know my name? You know what they all see when they look at me? They see an in, a gateway to superstardom and all that bullshit because they think that can get through me to my Dad. My Dad who won't even look at me, because I'm such a fucking disappointment. You know, he'd love for me to go get a record deal. Or do drugs, or crash a Hollywood party or do _anything,_ worthy of being Hank Knight's son, but I don't want any of that, I don't. I don't want your girls, or your parties, or any of that. So fuck you."

Kendall gets up to leave, but James grabs his hand.

"Nothing happened?"

"Nothing happened." Kendall collapses back into the booth, tired. James looks at him, something like sadness in his eyes,  
>"Do you think you're better than me?" Kendall's heart just about breaks on the spot.<p>

"I think we're both as fucked up as each other." he says slowly, hand still in James'

"You took my CD from Logan." Kendall tries to tug his hand away, but James doesn't let go.

"Yeah." James cocks his head,

"Did you like it?"

"Honestly? You sound best like that. It's heartbreaking, and honest, and real. It's really beautiful."

"I'm sorry about your Dad."

"Me too."

And then Kendall's phone rings.

"You should go and talk to her." Says James earnestly, gripping Kendall's hand a little tighter,

"Seriously. Camille and Carlos are still at The Rocque, right? Take me back there, and go find Jo."

Kendall nods, and heads to the bathroom, desperate for a splash of water and a clearer head.

When he gets to the door, the trio of angry girl waitresses stands in his way and hand him James' ridiculous bill.  
>Outside, leaning on the bonnet of Kendall's car, James gives a grin and a wave.<p>

The blonde waitress smiles too, her own not quite as friendly.

"And eyebrows?" she smarms, "Don't forget the tip."

* * *

><p>"You what?" Shouts James incredulously over the loud din of Wake up New York's warm-up act.<p>

"We totally got in a bar fight!" yells Carlos as he and Camille bounce in unison to the thumping beat.

"I pulled a girl's hair!" squeals Camille excitedly. "It was awesome!"

James doesn't ask how they were allowed back in after this fight, opting instead to bounce around with them.

"This is awesome!"

It turns out Jo was stranded. Not the whole time she was texting and calling Kendall, just the last hour or so. So she's not exactly happy when Kendall finally comes to the rescue.

"You are the worst New Yorker ever." He says as he changes her tyre.

"I hurt my wrist! That's not my fault! And besides, no one in New York knows how to change a tyre, because everyone here is smart enough not to drive!"

"Except for you apparently."

"You drove here too, you know."

"Yeah, but I can change a tyre."

"I hurt my wrist!"

They collapse into her car a few minutes later, and he fiddles with her sound system until her bootleg of Wake up New York begins to play.

"So someone finally met James, huh?"

"Yup. Turns out he wasn't Logan's invisible friend after all."

"I think that means we owe Camille money…"

"What do I get for making out with him?"

"I don't think that was on the market."

Kendall sighs, leaning back into the seat,  
>"I kind of hate you, you know?"<p>

"Is that why you weren't answering my calls?"

"Would you have answered your calls?"

"Probably not, no. But I rang so many people for help, I even rang your sister!"

"It's 3am. She's twelve."

"Yeah. I don't think your sister sleeps."

"Jo?"  
>"Yeah?"<br>"Why didn't we go back to the way we were, you know, once you got back?"  
>Jo sighs now too, letting her head fall back against the head rest.<p>

"We weren't happy Kendall. I think we got so complacent, so used to what we were doing, I didn't realize until I went away that relationships aren't really supposed to be that way."

"You make out with Dak a lot."

"I do. Does that bother you?"

"It did, a lot. It made me hate you, which sucked. But I don't know that it does bother me so much anymore."

"So you'll stop hating me then?"

"Give me another week, ok? I deserve at least that."

"Thanks for not leaving me on the side of the road."

She looks at him then, her eyes warm and familiar. It's the look she used to give him after a long night out, makeup rubbed from her eyes, hair hanging limp around her face. It was such a contrast from who she was on those long city nights, with big hair and a big voice, everyone looking at her, Kendall quiet in the shadows.

She was always softer in the afterglow, quieter, as though the whole great show had tired her out. He liked her best then, the private moments where she was less girly she-beast, more human.

"I'm going to hug you now," he says, awkwardly manoeuvring around the stick shift and looping his arms around her.

He pulls her body towards him, holds her close, and breathes.


	6. Cause I found someone to carry me home

James gets the text at 3.48, and pushes through the angry mob that is advancing on Gustavo, the manager.

_WUNY were a no show _he replies to Kendall.

_I know. Lucy texted me. Come outside._

Apparently this plan has already been run by Camille and Carlos, who are now selecting the perfect girl for Camille to make out with. They eagerly wave James off, and soon he's in the front seat of Kendall's car, with no idea where he's going.

"Here" Says Kendall, handing James his iPod. "I only have so many CDs with which you can mock me. Also, Jo says hi."

"Of course," says James, "So does Logan."

Kendall raises an eyebrow.

"Everything cool?"

"Yeah. No. I'm not sure. He said he wanted to be friends but I'm not sure I'm ready for that."

"He was good guy once, really." Says Kendall. "He just needs to remember how to be one again."

"Sure," muses James quietly.

"Hey," Kendall says gently, "We all fuck up at one point or another."

They sit quietly for a few minutes, the music washing over them.

"Oh, how bad is that awful goatee?" Kendall asks, laughing when James nods solemnly.  
>"It really is the worst crime against fashion I've ever seen. It's actually even worse than your shirt!"<p>

"Hey!"

"Ow! Sorry! I was kidding!"

"Seriously though dude, that thing is-Oh my God I'm on your iPod."

"What?"

"I am totally on your iPod!"

"Shit. I forgot that was… Just, just shut up, ok?"

"That's awesome!"

"Ugh. Look, you don't totally suck, ok? Once you get past all that glittery crap you hide behind, you're really good."

James smiles, and Kendall rolls his eyes,  
>"Come on, we're here."<p>

Armor Records is the greatest thing James has ever seen.

Actually it's a pretty basic looking building really, but it's still amazing to just be there.

"Do you know how much history has been made here?"

"Um, yes? My Dad owns it?"

"Real, awesome, _real _bands have recorded here and…" James could list the names of every famous person who has ever stepped foot in these halls, but suddenly Kendall has him pinned against the wall, and is kissing him again.

That makes it a little difficult to concentrate on the history of Armor Records.

"I'm sorry for being a dick." Kendall mumbles into James' collarbone.  
>James laughs.<p>

"Everyone fucks up sometime right? Besides, I was a dick too."

Then he shuts Kendall up. With his tongue.

Well, he tries to at least. Kendall pulls away a little, so that their faces are just inches apart.

"Seriously though, my Dad is a jerk. I used to think he was Superman. Literally, I thought he was coming home late at night because he was fighting crime. He doesn't care about music, or his artists, or anything but money and fame and everything that it can give to him. You're nothing like him, James, and I'm sorry for ever thinking you were. You care, about the music, I can tell.  
>My Dad is an idiot, but you?<br>You're better than that. You could be so much better than that."

Kendall kisses him again, hard and fast, just like the karaoke bar, but soon pulls away again.

He opens his mouth to speak, but James covers it with a hand.

"Do you make a lot of big speeches?"  
>"Kinda," mumbles Kendall through James' fingers. James grins,<br>"Just checking!"

* * *

><p>"You wear a lot of this stuff." Kendall says from his place on the old grey couch in studio 1, wiping foundation from his lips.<br>"Why?"

James flops down next to him, having been touching random objects in the studio for the last five minutes, mumbling to himself about who might have touched them before him.

"It's eye-catching," James shrugs. "My Mom has a big product range back home. She's been trying to bring it to New York since we moved here, but it hasn't really caught on.

"You're already eye-catching," says Kendall absent-mindedly, gently brushing his fingers over the lines on James' hand.

"That's not what my Mom would say."  
>"What would your Mom say?"<br>"That only Diamonds are forever. They're strong and resilient, and they will always shine, no matter what. But she was also pretty certain that even Diamonds need polishing. She said that a lot after her and my Dad split."

"You don't need it." Says Kendall firmly.

James kisses him then, but it's not the angry kisses from earlier, carried by adrenaline and lust. It's more intimate, gentler.

A private kiss, just for Kendall.

"Eye-catching," Says Kendall.

"Everyone already looks at you," says James, resting his head on Kendall's chest.

"They don't see me." Kendall says quietly after a while. "I thought maybe you didn't either."

* * *

><p>They stay like that for some time, quietly breathing in each other's presence.<p>

It's peaceful.

At some point, the kissing comes back, hunger and passion the driving force once more.

But Kendall pulls away.

"I really like you." He says.  
>'That's obvious," grins James.<p>

Kendall hits him.

"Ow. Ok, I like you too."

"We've known each other for what, 8 and a half hours?"  
>"Something like that."<p>

"You have to take me on a date." Kendall smiles triumphantly, but James wriggles out from beneath him, and sits up on the couch once more,

"Why?"

Kendall crosses his arms,  
>"Cause I paid for you to eat enough for eleven people at The Palmwoods." James winces,<br>'Valid point."  
>"So, a date?"<br>"Yes, Kendall, I will take you on a date."  
>"Good."<p>

They settle back down beside each other comfortably.  
>James turns to face Kendall, grinning once more, "So did you and Camille ever…"<p>

"No! What? No!"

"What? She's cute!"

"You are incorrigible!"

"Thank you!" chirps James cheerfully, Kendall glares,  
>"Do you even know what that means?"<p>

"Uh, that I'm unable to be corriged?"

* * *

><p>"If you wanted a shortcut," says Kendall, "I could give your CD to Kelly. She technically runs The Rocque for Gustavo, but I know they want to break into the production side of things. She'd do the right thing by you."<p>

James nestles his head into Kendall's neck.

"Thank you."

* * *

><p>"You thought your Dad was Superman?"<p>

"Yup. Then I found him doing coke with an underage pop-star in my Mom's bathroom. On the same night of my under 15s championship game. He missed it, and I discovered his secret identity. Kind of killed the illusion."

* * *

><p>When James wakes up, it takes a moment to realize where he is. He's only been asleep for about twenty minutes, and his head is resting on Kendall's chest as it rises and falls slowly, the calming rhythm of sleep having must have taken him too.<p>

"They don't see me either." James whispers into Kendall's neck.

"They look at me differently to the way they look at you, but it's kind of the same. People look at you and see your Dad, and his fame, and what they can get from that. They see him in you, but they don't really see you."

James breathes deeply, waits for Kendall to say something, but nothing comes but slow measured breaths.

"And it's not fair," James continues, "I know because it's kind of like that with me too. When I'm on stage, or around show time, when everyone's waiting for the big bands to come out, they look at me like I'm the most interesting thing in the room.

I think it's the music. It draws them in, and they live for it, you know? They look at me, but it's empty, because they're not looking for me, they're just living in the song, happy to let everything else slip away until all that's left is them and the music. They don't really care for what lies beneath it."

He struggles to find the words sometimes, he always has.

"But I always thought," He says finally, "They don't see me, but at least they're looking."

Still no sound comes.

Then Kendall's hand finds James', and holds on tight.

* * *

><p>Bob's is dark.<p>

The lights are out, the street outside is deserted, and everything is quiet.

A pink sign hangs on the bottom corner of the door.

"All it says is _Back Door_"

James huddles close to Kendall, reading over his shoulder, one finger looped in the belt of Kendall's jeans.

"Lucy's handwriting?"  
>"Yup."<p>

"You know," says Kendall slowly, turning to face James, "These guys are great and all, but I could really go a turkey sandwich right now." James smiles.

"Sounds good to me," says Carlos, from behind them, Camille under his arm.

"Where have you guys been?" Asks Kendall, eyebrows raised.

Camille smiles, eyes shining,  
>"Oh, everywhere, nowhere. I'm a rebel now, don't you know. I don't have to explain myself to anybody."<p>

But James is looking at Carlos in confusion.

"But this is Wake up New York. With Lucy Stone."

"Yeah," says Kendall, smirking, "I could introduce you guys."

"You know," says Carlos, looking over at Camille, and taking her hand, "I think we're good."  
>"So," says Kendall, laughing at James' gaping jaw, "Palmwoods Diner then?"<p>

"I'll beat you there," says James, voice low and serious.

"You recovered quickly," laughs Camille.

"Seriously, I will beat you Kendall." Says James, game-face in place.

"Fine." Says Kendall, "Last one there has to pay!"

"Ready!" Shouts Camille as Kendall looks at James glitter free and gorgeous in the early dawn.

"Set!" Grins Carlos, as James looks back at Kendall, golden in the fading darkness.

"Go!"

Four voices ring out in chorus, and laughter and shouts echo through the empty streets as they run into the sunrise, a tangle of limbs, and squeals and youth and love.

**SEVEN WEEKS LATER**

Bob's place is filling up, as it always does at this time. Kendall watches the first band from his usual spot, Camille intermittently by his side. She's dressed like a goddess tonight, red dress and sequined heels.

"Could you just stay still?" Kendall calls over the music,

"No! That's not how the game works!"

"What exactly is the game again?"

"Carlos and I are wing-manning for each other! I've explained this at least six times!"

"And how do you win this game exactly?"

"Whoever gets the hottest catch wins!"

"And then you make out with each other anyway?"

"Yup!" Kendall shakes his head as Kelly approaches.

"Come on," She says, "You're wanted backstage."

It takes 13 seconds for Camille and Carlos to start making out.

Kendall and James are not so quick, mostly because James is fussing about in front of the mirror.

"Do I look ok?" he asks, jittery.

"Hi to you too," smirks Kendall.

"Kendall…" whines James. Kendall rolls his eyes,

"You look fine. Just like you always do. Would you relax? You've played this place like five times already!"

"Yes, but we've never been second billing before," says Carlos matter-of-factly.

"They even spelled your name right on the poster this time!" Adds Camille cheerfully.

Kendall grabs James and holds him still,

"Stop being an idiot. You're going to be awesome, just like you always are. And if you're not, I hear Lucy Stone is single again."

"Dude, I swear…"

Kendall doesn't know what James is swearing to do because she shuts him up the best way he knows how, with his mouth.

"OK, almost time to go on." Says Kelly sharply, but she's smiling a little.

"Just so you know, I saw Logan in the crowd. Thought I'd tell you, so you don't freeze up mid-song again."

"That was one time! And uh, yeah, I invited him actually."

"You did?"

"Well yeah. He hasn't seen any of the new stuff and, well, it's been a while since we've seen each other. I thought maybe we could invite him to the diner later?"

"Can I recommend he orders the pasta marinara?"

"Sure."

"Done."

And then it's Showtime. After quick kisses all round, and Kendall having to physically detach Camille from Carlos, Kendall gives a little wave to James and stands next to Kelly in the wings.

"You offered him top billing didn't you?"

The question has been on his mind for weeks, James having been very tight-lipped about his meetings with Kelly and Gustavo.

"Yep. Don't tell him I told you. He said he wants to go about things 'the right way' I had to buy Gustavo a new conference table."

Kendall grins as the lights come up and James greets the crowd.

"He's very shiny." Says Kelly.

Kendall laughs.

"Yeah. He really is."

* * *

><p>Man, the formatting of this nearly killed me. Sorry for the spam if you were tracking me, it just seemed to look so ugly every time I tried to post it, and I'm a bit of a perfectionist. Thanks for reading :)<p> 


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